White and Black
by cursedlonelyheart
Summary: They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. In the case of Yamamoto and Gokudera, it just makes focusing on their training harder. Ficlets.
1. White Hair

**A/N: **_Short. Short. Short drabble fic, since I can't think of anything to write in my report right now._

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**White Hair**

Squalo stood before him, his face serious and the shadows dancing across his face. He began explaining.

"Listen, the path of the sword is...VOIIII! Are you listening, you brat?"

Yamamoto snapped out of his daze.

It was their third day away from the Vongola Base. He had committed himself to the sword, and Squalo's training was going to begin. He was looking forward to it really, but sitting in the woods, away from _him_, away from his friends was somewhat lonely.

"Haha...sorry, I was just thinking of something," he grinned sheepishly. "Continue..."

"You better not be thinking about baseball," Squalo warned, his eyes staring hard at him, checking if his resolution was still firm. "You won't get through my training with that fake resolve of yours."

He shook his head. "No, I'm seriously devoted to the sword this time," he told him. "I was just wondering about the others."

"VOOOIII! Now's not the time to think about them! Think about getting stronger! Think about the sword!" Squalo shouted. This is also one of the brat's weaknesses, he was too kind.

"Hai, hai!" Yamamoto nodded cheerfully, promising that he would not lose his focus.

Although five minutes later, the teenager was caught spacing out again.

A vein was popping on Squalo's forehead. The brat had not heard a single word he said. He hates repeating himself. "What is your problem you damn brat? I'm seriously going to kill you!"

"Nothing, it's just that..."

"That?"

"Your hair..."

Squalo consciously flipped his hair. "What about it?" he hissed. He had noticed that the brat had been staring at it for some time too.

Yamamoto flashed an easygoing grin.

"It reminds me of someone,"

"HAAAA!" he shouted in frustration, looking up at the sky. He had an idea of who the person is, the older Yamamoto had also mentioned this to him before. He couldn't believe the younger one would also tell this to him, now of all times!

The teenager comfortably laid his back on the log behind him. "You two are really similar." It wasn't just the hair, the way they always yell at him was also the same.

Squalo's hand was shaking like he wants to wring his neck. Honest brat has no sense of embarrassment. This is why he hates teenagers! Damn hormones getting in the way. When Yamamoto continued to look at him wistfully (and he could tell he was still thinking of _that_ _person_) he reached for something on his back.

It was the first time Squalo put his hood up.

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**A/N: **_LOL. Guess who? __I'm having withdrawal symptoms. __More KHR!  
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	2. Black Ink

**A/N: **_It's not like this is a continuation or anything (even if its obviously looks that it is) This story just came into mind after reading an 8059 doujinshi entitled "Jewel" (Have you read it? It is SO sweet!) And I figured I'd just post this as another chapter here instead of a new story._

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**Black Ink**

Gokudera looked around the kitchen, and seated himself at the right side of the Tenth like always. He helped the stupid woman and Sasagawa distribute the plates, and out of habit, placed one on the Tenth's left side too.

"H-Hahi! Gokudera-san," Haru exclaimed "What's that extra plate for?" she asked.

Annoyance briefly flitted over his face. It was quite obvious on his tone, however.

" What extra plate?" he snarled. Stupid woman didn't think he could count?

"She meant this, Gokudera-kun," Tsuna stepped in before this became yet another shouting match. His right hand man was so hot-tempered these days. He figured it had something to do with Onii-san and Lambo's training. Perhaps all was not going well. He removed the plate and handed it to Haru.

"I-I'm sorry Tenth!" the silverette profusely apologized. "I forgot that the baseball freak..." he trailed off.

_Ahh.._so it was that.

"Don't worry about him Gokudera-kun," he said, giving him a reassuring smile. "He'll be back with us in no time,"

"Why would I worry about that baseball idiot?" Gokudera looked scandalized. "Like I care! He'll probably die while training with that loud swordsman. Heck! He's not very bright so Squalo will probably be pissed off by him and kill him himself! Or..."

Suddenly, death by sword was becoming a highly probable prospect. He wouldn't put it pass the Varia not to kill their apprentices if they were too stupid to learn. _You better get back here in one piece Yamamoto, _he thought. _Or I'm gonna kill you

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After 100 push-ups, 50 laps on the headquarters and another 100 sit-ups, Ryohei finally noticed what was different about today: Tako-head was not yelling at him. Or at Lambo, for that matter.

Instead the storm guardian was hunched over his notebook. Glasses slipping on his nose as his seafoam green eyes narrowed in concentration. He was constantly muttering things like "not like this," or "this looks wrong" Maybe it was another one of those complicated equations.

"Arara~~" the five-year old seem to have noticed that the storm guardian was ignoring him too. He jumped on the table and wandered to the silver-haired teen. "Ahodera, what're you doing?" he asked. "It's not right to ignore Lambo-san you know, Dame-Tsuna asked you to play with him."

A vein on his forehead twitched and the storm guardian was quick to scold the brat.

"Don't call the Tenth that, stupid cow," he yelled.

Now the day was finally turning out normal.

"And you, Lawn-head!" the teen pointed at him.

"Oh! What's that Tako-head!" he asked extremely. But instead of asking him to study theories and memorize different strategies like always, Gokudera simply flung the thunder guardian at him and said, "I'm busy, go train somewhere else," he opened the notebook again. "And take that brat with you,"

Ryohei could only stare...for a minute.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU TAKO-HEAD!" he said (shouted) at top of his lungs. "YOU'RE ACTING WEIRD TO THE EXTREME!"

The silverette only glared at him irritably and motioned for him to go away, like shooing a dog. The usual Gokudera would have told him to "shut the f*ck up, you're making f*cking ears bleed" by now.

_Something's different with him today._

He went out of the room, taking the five-year old with him who rode on his shoulders. It took him another 5 laps around the Headquarters to realize what it was. The notebook. He doesn't really understand it, but Tako-head was paying more attention to it, than them today.

There must be something on it, something that was making Gokudera act strange.

He made a clever plan with the Thunder Guardian ("Be loud and distract Tako-head while I look at the notebook") and set out to the library again where he found the teen still hunched on the notebook. This time, he seem to be erasing something on it. Using the felt-tip pen to shade or color at something written on it.

"AT THE COUNT OF 3!"

Lambo obviously didn't know how to count, or maybe he thought it was the signal, since he immediately launched himself on the storm guardian landing at his neck, causing his face to make contact with the table. Ryohei wasted no time getting the notebook, which was pinned by the silverette's elbow.

"What do you think you're doing!" he said, leaning all his weight on his elbow so that the Sun Guardian won't be able to slip the notebook out of it.

"Gupyaa! Lambo-san knowsthat there's a drawing in there!" Lambo squealed from behind him. He was standing on his shoulders. "Let me see! Let me see!"

Lawn-head was also making it difficult for him, since he was still pulling at the notebook. _What the f*ck has gotten into these two?_ Since the notebook was now slipping from under him. He did what he could only do. He uncapped the pen, and started shading at anything and everything that was written on the open page. By the time, Ryohei was able to get it from him, it was just a huge blob of blank ink.

He walk away smirking, glad to be rid of two fools, who was still trying to figure out what was previously written on the page. Ha! Tomorrow, he would make their training extra hard, drill the strategies in their heads.

Ryohei was left with the ink-filled page, brows knitted in concentration. He could tell that it was supposed to be a person. There were the outlines of shoulders and an outstretched arm.

"Hey kid, you saw what was written here, right?" he asked. "What is it?"

The five year old had all but forgotten about it. He was now busy picking his nose. "Lambo-san doesn't know, it's just a man,"

"A man?"

"Yes, onii-san with black hair,"

"Onii-san," he said to himself, turning his attention to the paper once more. So it _was _a person. A man. Now that the kid mentions it he could finally see the outline of the head. And following that is the neck...and shoulders...and then that outstretched arm he saw earlier.

It looked like it was holding a baseball bat.

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**A/N: **_Haha.. hoped you like these little ficlets. I miss Yamamoto, hope he wakes up soon T_T_


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